


Bad Hand

by kuill



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Akaba Reiji - Freeform, Dartship, M/M, Sakaki Yuuya - Freeform, Sawatari Shingo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5183009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuill/pseuds/kuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of the bad ending from the visual novel Draw, by Luvandia! You can read it over at kureni-x.tumblr.com/post/124504471778/draw-a-yu-gi-oh-arc-v-visual-novel-by-luvandia !!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This is the continuation of the bad ending from the visual novel [Draw](kureni-x.tumblr.com/post/124504471778/draw-a-yu-gi-oh-arc-v-visual-novel-by-luvandia), where Akaba Reiji finds out about Sawatari's unique abilities.
> 
> If you haven't looked at it already YOU SHOULD! It is awesome. So awesome.
> 
> This is an AU of an AU, kinda, but it doesn't mean it's spoiler free! You have been warned :d

Nobody screams louder than Sawatari.

The ghost of those screams still echo faintly between Yuuya’s pounding heart, even though they’re left the mayhem behind in the detention facility. He can still hear them as clear as day, even though Sawatari has fallen silent, his breaths hot and laboured against his cheek.

“Press on, Sawatari,” Gongenzaka firmly encourages as Yuuya finally manages to struggle up the ladder with Sawatari’s weight precariously tipping him backwards. They’re on the roof, the wind threatening to tug Sawatari out of his grasp, and behind them the latch clangs shut as Gongenzaka drops it with a groan.

“Now what?”

“We jump,” Gongenzaka replies evenly, and as Yuuya feels himself pushed to the edge of the drop where nothingness waits, he absentmindedly thinks about how Sawatari should be protesting, putting up an indignant fight to cover up his terror, unwilling to jump unless he was pushed off the edge.

In another timeline, in another universe, in some narrative inconceivable to him, Sawatari is not painting Yuuya’s favorite red shirt a shade darker, and he is not struggling to keep his balance or stem the bleeding with Yuuya’s uniform pressed to the gruesome hole in his neck.

“Sawatari, we have to jump,” Yuuya urges, when Sawatari finally registers the endless drop beneath them and manages to dig his heels into the concrete. “The guards will be here any moment. Will you be alright?”

That ice blue gaze wavers, and for a brief moment Yuuya sees that open, unguarded look that so does not fit the Sawatari Shingo he knows. A single second belies the endless mobius strip of times and fates that Sawatari has taken upon himself —

The nails clamped on his shoulder slack just a little, and Yuuya squeezes his arm more tightly around Sawatari’s waist, just because it’s the only way he can reach him through his haze. The terror and pain in Sawatari’s eyes passes in an instant, because they go glassy. And then the boy’s weight shifts one second too quick for Yuuya to respond.

Under his shoes, the ground gives way, and the building tilts them off the edge.

“Sawatari!” Yuuya pulls the boy closer to him. His uniform is snatched away by the wind, and now he sees the yellowing blisters and blood crusting ugly over Sawatari’s unmarred skin. “Wake up!”

 _This is all because of me_ , Yuuya thinks dumbly, because Sawatari is bleeding to death and might be gone before they meet their doom on the sidewalk fast coming up to greet them.

The realisation slams into Yuuya’s gut.

_Everything has always been because of me._

His fingers tremble as he reaches for his duel disk, for the stack of cards in its slot. The matte face of his cards feel familiar and yet all wrong, somehow. Did Sawatari plan this too? Will he be drawing something he can use, or a magic or trap card that won’t have any bearing on their circumstances right now?

Time’s running out.

It’s draw or die — and after all, Sawatari has already done the latter.

Yuuya pulls the card and slams it onto his duel disk without looking. A flare of light erupts. Through the searing mix of colors, he hears the _mrrow_ of a cat and then feels canvas bend under his weight. It’s Trampolynx, the edge of the trampoline on its back marred slightly by blood — Sawatari’s blood, and its owner is crumpled in an unmoving heap on the ground.

“Catch the others, Trampolynx!” Yuuya shouts, running over to Sawatari’s side. The boy has gone cold, and half his pristine white uniform has turned to rose, but thank gods Yuuya can feel the slight breaths on his fingertip when he tests for breath. “Sawatari? Sawatari, can you hear me?” Sawatari is lifeless, but not broken. Not just yet. “Hold on for me, okay? It’s just a while more. I’ll get us out of this mess.”

Choujiro and Gongenzaka join them seconds later, followed closely by security that refuse to be swayed by miracle cards.

Yuuya hoists the limp arm of Sawatari Shingo across his shoulders before raising his own duel disk to meet their challenge.

This time his free hand goes to meet his deck without hesitation.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuya is standing before a panel of five judges, without his deck or the stifling weight of Sawatari slumped against him. His wrists are cuffed in front of him, and his friends stand behind him, protesting where Sawatari would’ve. Nobody asks about Sawatari’s condition, and Yuuya is the only one who protests when they take him away to the medical bay. Of course he can’t go, what is he even trying to do? Being beside Sawatari will change absolutely nothing, and everything is beyond him right now. His best hope is in hoping that he can clear their names enough so Sawatari gets the treatment he needs.

Akaba Reiji strides in, with the same disinterested expression that Yuuya has come to loathe with every fibre of his being. He sees Reira fall in a step later and relief surges through him, but it doesn’t quell his anger. If not for the Lancers, Sawatari wouldn’t have been in this mess. It’s unfair to think this, but he can’t help it. Akaba Reiji has forced him to give up one thing too much, and he has had enough.

They barter and negotiate, and Yuuya wants to protest as he is traded like a chess piece, a lamb for the slaughter. The head of security singles him out as the sacrificial offal, and he bites back his protest when Akaba Reiji does not object.

He doesn’t dare let himself think about the duel with the King, because he knows he will think about the draw, and how this time he is doing it absolutely alone.

“Sakaki Yuuya,” says Akaba, intercepting him after they have been dismissed. He swallows and tilts his head back to meet Akaba’s gaze. “I need your testimony on the circumstance that has befallen Sawatari Shingo.”

“There’s nothing about it,” Yuuya grits out, because Akaba cannot know. “He got injured during the prison fight, and he—”

“A metal device was located in his neck. It seems to be too intertwined with his nervous system to be removed cleanly without invasive surgery.” Akaba Reiji continues without missing a beat, and Yuuya can’t help the pained grimace as he thinks about the metal and flesh, searing and fusing together under the heat. “Judging by your bloodstained clothing and your missing blazer, you have answers that would help the surgeons know what to do.”

Yuuya breaks eye contact, gut churning. “I’ll tell the surgeons myself.”

“The doctors don’t see a need to help one of our Lancers if he hasn’t proved himself.” Akaba Reiji continues, voice flat. “I will not vouch for him unless I know what liability that device brings to our original goal.”

“It’s not a liability!” Yuuya snaps, fists clenching by his sides.

Akaba Reiji doesn’t so much as flinch.

He waits for the leader of the Lancers to ask another question, to concede to his needing this information, but none comes.

“Sawatari isn’t a liability,” Yuuya says, more firmly this time, because he believes in this just like he has always believed in his deck: blindly and without question. “He helped me win my duels.”

Akaba drawls, “You failed to win them _all._ ”

“He let you win that one.” Yuuya smirks up at him, and is satisfied to see those eyes narrow slightly in irritation. “He planned your every move.”

_My every move, but it takes two to duel after all._

“He let me win?” Akaba Reiji asks carefully.

“Yes.”

“He helped you win.”

Yuuya has given Akaba Reiji too little credit. From the corner of his eye, Yuuya sees Reira edge behind his brother a little more, and he knows that he just walked Akaba Reiji into dangerous, dangerous territory.

“He _helped_ you win.”

Akaba Reiji’s eyes glint. Yuuya has seen this look once before, during their duel for the ownership of the You Show Duel School, and he had almost succeeded in pushing Akaba into a corner. Something had clicked then, something that Yuuya still doesn’t know the shape of, and it had turned Akaba from a duellist with a poor hand to one who owned all the odds in the span of a split second.

Calmly, Akaba Reiji falls back into his habit of pushing his spectacles up his nose. Under his palm, the edge of his lip curls nastily, and Yuuya closes his eyes and hopes that Sawatari will accept how terribly, terribly sorry he is.

“I see.”

“He’s not a weapon you can use to win,” Yuuya says angrily, but the smirk does not fall from Akaba’s face. “It’s wrong! You can’t use him that way! He hurts when he does it, and he —”

“Will he hurt more than the millions of people in Standard who will fall when Fusion storms the dimension? Would you give up your friends, your family, just because you want to give Sawatari Shingo an easier time? You would deny Standard the chance of owning a truly formidable weapon, just because you want to be kind to one person?”

Akaba counters him easily, the excuses falling easily off his lips, and Yuuya wonders how many times he has rehearsed it, or how many people he has coerced with this same set of rhetorical questions. “It’s not just—”

“I recall advising you that your kind and naive soul has no place on the battlefield.” He says, his voice betraying a hint of disappointment as he turns to go. A strategic act, Yuuya knows, because Akaba Reiji is damn near emotionless even when his own pride is on the line. “No matter. I will have Sawatari and his mechanical accompaniment analysed, and I will do what is best for Standard.”

“Wait!” Yuuya darts in front of Akaba, spreading his arms to bar him from walking any further. When Akaba looks at him Yuuya feels like he’s some animal, trapped and observed for someone else’s whims. “Wait.”

Akaba waits.

Yuuya swallows and struggles to find the words. “I…” Now that Sawatari is hurt, he needs to repay the favour. Not only because he wants Sawatari to recover, as slim as those chances are, but because he doesn’t want Sawatari to be in pain any more. “Don’t hurt him.”

Akaba Reiji doesn’t do anything else but stare.

Yuuya struggles past the faint impressions of Sawatari, clawing at his neck, blood drawing lines down his skin, his clothes, scrawling pain across his features, painting his grin into a scream — “Don’t hurt him. He’s… suffered enough.”

He can’t muster the strength to respond when Akaba sidesteps him and walks silently down the corridor. He can’t even gather the composure to meet Reira’s eyes just before the little boy turns away and patters after his brother.

Whatever luck Sawatari has given him, Akaba has ruined it.

His wrist aches, the way it does when he’s been duelling for too long, and he’s getting too tired to hold his disk in position. It’s heavy, so heavy, and Yuuya just wants to take it off. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sawatari does not wake in time for his duel with Jack Atlas, which is probably for the best. It hasn’t even been a day, after all, though it feels a lot longer than that. Yuuya’s carpet has a visible streak where he’s been pacing, but nothing can distract from the empty crevasse in the pit of his stomach where butterflies for Sawatari used to live. He can’t stop thinking about how fragile the boy looked, his head tilted to expose the awful blood and steel innards that poured from his neck. How did it even manage to fit? It wasn’t that big, but the thought of it being forced into Sawatari’s flesh, covered by stitches and coiling around his spine… it makes a small part of Yuuya wish that Sawatari did manage to pull it out as he’d been trying, even if it killed him in the end.

Is this really fine, for Sawatari to suffer like this?

The Sawatari recovering from Yuuto’s attack had been able to hurl insults and accept chocolates and flowers with a grin that turned the pasty white of the walls into something like milk or vanilla ice cream. Now Sawatari was just a struggling body with a mechanical heartbeat audible to the room, tended to by the doctors that held vigil all hours of the night. Akaba Reiji had only given him a glimpse before turning him to the guards, and as Yuuya struggled in protest he had called out, “Prove to me that you’re made of more than luck, Sakaki Yuuya. After your duel with Jack you may see him again.”

Yuuya halts mid step in his room as they call out his name. His face, pixelated and staring glassily at and through him from the television screen, wears a smile that he cannot mirror no matter how hard he tries.

He picks up his deck of cards, trying to remember how it was like to believe that Odd Eyes would come to his aid if he called hard enough.

Just out of curiosity, he draws his first card.

_Performapal Landlord Hermit Crab._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sakaki Yuuya loses to the duel king Jack Atlas, and for that he is relieved.

Sometimes it still did feel like Sawatari was watching him, from an entire timeline away. Stargazer magician and Timegazer magician were in his hand from the get go. And how could Sawatari _not_ been involved when he could Fusion and XYZ summon on the first turn? It was just like Sawatari, really, to start with a flourish. It was all about the entertaining, and the crowd loved every minute of his routine.

(Routine? Did he really have the right to call it that?)

Part of him was proud and immensely thankful that he had managed such a flawless execution even though Sawatari couldn’t have had a hand in it at all. The other part of him, a slightly smaller part, was frustrated. He didn’t want good hands without his lucky charm.

No, that wasn’t it. It is only now, in retrospect, that Yuuya realises — he does not want to prove to anyone that Sawatari’s repeated and futile sacrifices were unnecessary to win.

So it was much of a relief when Jack’s Archfiend wrecked the ground in front of his D-Wheel, and ended the duel with a furious burst of smoke and his LP at zero.

 _I could’ve drawn stronger cards_ , Yuuya thinks, as Akaba Reiji opens the door to Sawatari’s ward for him, _I could’ve won._

“Sakaki Yuuya!”

That incorrigible voice cuts into his thoughts, and Yuuya almost sinks to the ground in relief. Instead he dashes over to the bed. Sawatari is smiling tiredly at him where he sits, half propped up against the pillows, a single innocent patch of gauze the only evidence of the horrors that transpired in the past day. Yuuya hurriedly pulls up a chair and sits, extending a hand to curl it around Sawatari’s hand. It is ice cold.

A multitude of words fight to get out, apologies and thanks and relief and repentance all at once, but all he musters is a breathy “Sawatari.”

“I risk my life for you, fall unconscious… and you’re too distracted to notice that I’m finally awake?… This is an insult to the son of the next mayor, Sawa…” Sawatari pauses, take a labouring inhale. “... tari. Sawatari Shingo.”

He doesn’t like how weak the boy’s voice sounds, or how there’s a barely perceptible tremor lurking beneath the bright overtones and bold declarations. He squeezes Sawatari’s hand tightly, exactly the way they do in romance novels. “I’m sorry.”

“You better be! I was watching your duel.” Sawatari glances to the television mounted on the wall and its silently moving images. Snapshots of the Lancers appear, inane factoids about their birthdays and where they studied. “What _was_ that? I would’ve crushed that pompous king Jack Atlas if I was duelling him. You have all the right cards, you’re just not using them right!”

Yuuya has to bite back a laugh when Sawatari’s fingers twitch against his in a feeble attempt at a squeeze.

“I guess there’s no choice.” Sawatari huffs. “I’ll just have to continue helping—”

Yuuya sits up. “But you’ve already done so much for me. I can’t keep relying on you like this. Especially if you’re in pain when you travel back in time.”

“This is nothing!” Sawatari untangles his right hand from the sheets and raises it, slaps it against the mattress a few times for emphasis. “See? I’m all ready to go! It’s nothing that the Neo New Noveau Novel Sawatari can’t deal with.”

“Another one?” Yuuya gasps in real exasperation now, because is this boy an idiot? He’s barely escaped the clutches of death, looks paler than a ghost, and all he can think of are things with the same meaning, repeated over and over?

“It’s fitting. I’m a new Sawatari now.” Sawatari gives his neck a crick. “Akaba Reiji had them repair it, though I can clearly handle time travelling with the old device. It’s not supposed to overheat now or something…. Damn that Akaba Reiji, always talking down to me like that, like I don’t know what overheating means… He’s not even a doctor!…”

Through Sawatari’s indignant muttering, Yuuya feels his gut tangle and tighten into a cold knot. There might’ve been some leeway for Sawatari if it hurt him. He could’ve even played by Akaba’s own cards and argued that hurting his weapon was no way to save Standard. He hated treating Sawatari exactly like the tool that he had insisted Sawatari wasn’t, but he didn’t want to lose Sawatari for this.

And now Akaba Reiji simply swaps the chips, and Sawatari may be able to loop timelines without a single bout of pain — what now? Resign Sawatari to an endless fate of trial and error, forcing him to watch his failures over and over until he can take no more? And then what?

“Hey, how can you space out when I’m talking to you!” Sawatari shakes his hand and Yuuya startles.

“H-Huh? I… Ah, sorry… I do that a lot, huh…”

“Too much!” Sawatari almost pouts, just the slightest touch of red on his cheeks. Red like this is okay, Yuuya thinks, as long as it is not pouring from him and never stopping. “What’s the point of you coming here if you’re going to belittle me like that, huh? Sakaki Yuuya?”

And oh, it feels so good to hear his name cradled by Sawatari’s voice like that. Even spat like an insult, his name sounds so _Sawatari_ that the tension leaves him in a rush, and tears wet the corners of his eyes as he bursts out laughing because it is the only thing he knows how to do.

“H-H-Hey! Don’t laugh at me!”

Yuuya shakes his head. “I’m not, I promise. I’m sorry. I’m just glad you’re better.”

“Better? I’m more than better!” Sawatari puffs up, and Yuuya can practically hear his ego swelling. “I died and came back from the dead! Nothing can stop me now.”

“Right.” Yuuya runs his thumb and is satisfied to see more red creep along the tip of Sawatari’s ears.

“But that’s not what you came here to say, is it.” Sawatari’s voice grows serious.

Yuuya shakes his head no. “I… I came here to thank you, I guess—”

“Your’e welcome, Sakaki Yuuya!”

“— and I was wondering if Akaba Reiji spoke to you about time travelling.”

Sawatari falls silent, eyes darting to the television. There, Gongenzaka and Crow are getting onto their D-Wheels, the first of many duels to come.

“Yes,” he says after a while, and flashes Yuuya a brilliant smile. “He did. But I told him that I can’t control it… And he can’t force me to time travel since _I’m_ the one controlling it.”

“You—” Yuuya glances over his shoulder at the door. “The room is bugged, Sawatari! They can hear everything you say!”

Sawatari’s face crumples into something like exasperation, shock, and the expression that reads _Oh no, the New Neo Nouveau Sawatari is screwed_ all at once and it is so comical that Yuuya almost laughs even despite the rising tide of panic.

“I absolutely did not say that I lied about not being able to control the chip! I definitely positively can do it, Akaba Reiji! I can time travel! I’m good—”

Yuuya jumps to his feet, clapping his hand over Sawatari’s mouth and turning the rest of his frantic protestations into muffles. “Stop!”

Sawatari raises a hand to smack his away, suddenly looking admonished. Yuuya is so surprised that he doesn’t give a quip for the strange action.

Does Sawatari actually look _guilty_? The boy drops his hand back to the bed. “Don’t look so worried…”

“How can I not!” Yuuya whispers. “You just botched your chances at—”

“I lied.”

Yuuya blinks. “Eh?”

“I lied,” he repeats with a weak smile. “I was supposed to tell you about how Akaba Reiji forced me to work with him… then I was supposed to make up a story that Akaba Reiji believed that I couldn’t time travel… so you’d believe that I would still time travel only to help you with your miracle draws. I’ll show you, Sakaki Yuuya! The great Sawatari Shingo will accomplish that without breaking a sweat!”

“… But?”

“So pessimistic,” mutters Sawatari, ruffled. “Well, you saw how that went.”

“Supposed to? So all of that was a lie?”

“Yes.”

Yuuya swallows. He’s afraid of what the truth is.

“I… truth is,” Sawatari worries the edge of his lip with a finger. “I can’t time travel any more. The doctors said it was too dangerous and they insisted on removing the chip even though Akaba Reiji tried to object. Akaba Reiji looks awful when he’s mad, he even—”

“Monster,” hisses Yuuya.

“Me? I told you the truth!”

Yuuya makes a noise of exasperation and fastens his hands around Sawatari’s waist. He feels as much as sees Sawatari’s gut lurch, and is secretly glad that the boy’s case of butterflies is much worse than his.

“You did. You’re the best, Sawatari Shingo. You have my eternal gratitude.” Yuuya sniffs, but it’s real. The television is blurring.

“Yuuya.” Sawatari’s hand rests gently on his head. “You’ll have to do those miracle draws by yourself, though.”

“I’m just glad that you’re safe.”

There is a huge, sun-melting smile in Sawatari’s voice when he replies, “Yeah. But just so you know? I think you’ll be able to pull it off.”

Yuuya’s fists tighten in the sheets.

“Look, Sakaki Yuuya. You were on par with me, the Great Sawatari Shingo, long before I discovered my time travelling abilities!” Sawatari pats his head gently. “You did it once, you could do it again.”

Yuuya doesn’t know if he wants to.

“Hmm, I wonder if I should give it a name. ‘Time Travelling’ by itself sounds a tad plain to me… Sawa-Time Travelling!”

“Sawatari, spare me, please…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sawatari recovers in time for his duel with one of the Duel Chasers — number 227. The duel is long, tiring, and truly testing in a way Yuuya has almost forgotten. Every once in a while he thinks about how Sawatari was the one rigging his cards to begin with, about how his luck is a mere illusion, a carefully sketched blueprint finally materialising in a grand design. Along the highways, staring down the blank eyes of security monsters, Yuuya is alone.

Somehow he still manages to turn things in his favour. That small part of him that is upset at his own luck has quietened now, because Sawatari’s words have given him an excuse to hope for his own miracle draws. He wants to succeed, and to show Sawatari that he can still be exactly the same brilliant entertainer that he was before Sawatari began to tweak with his deck.

He beats 227 by the skin of his teeth, with 100 LP to spare, but it is all worth it when he returns to the hospital ward and Sawatari is pushing himself out of bed to meet him.

“Sakaki Yuuya! Took you long enough!” The boy looks much more filled in, the color’s back on his cheeks and light actually touches his eyes again when he smiles. Yuuya realises he’s missed the mischievous glint in Sawatari’s eyes.

“Ah, sorry. I got held up…”

Yuuya lets Sawatari’s quick chatter mow over him like a steamroller, and it’s strange, but it feels good that they have some sense of normalcy back in their lives. Now when Yuuya wants to, he can close his eyes and imagine that all of this never happened, and they’re just back in school bickering about entertainment duels, Yuzu threatening to clobber them both if they don’t quiet down enough, and time is flowing exactly as it should be.

His gaze flickers sideways and down. Sawatari, still self conscious, fidgets slightly. The boy’s neck has healed over and there is only a faint smudge of darker brown to mark where Sawatari’s skin had been spliced back together. Before Yuuya can stop himself he tries to look for a little bump where a microchip could’ve been.

“Does it hurt?”

“Eh?” Sawatari claps a hand over the mark sulkily. “... Not really.”

Yuuya takes a step forward, heart racing. He lifts his hand, fingers aching to feel the ridge of subtly puckered skin, to feel that Sawatari is _alright_. It’s so unreal, seeing Sawatari unmarred like that, and Yuuya wants to _know_ that this isn’t a dream.

Sawatari splutters, entire body twitching at the close contact, but he only bites down on his lip with a vengeance and doesn’t move away.

Gently, so gently, Yuuya runs his fingers down the closed wound on Sawatari’s neck. It is no longer searing hot, no longer bleeding ghastly red, and… Sawatari is no longer dying.

He looks up to see Sawatari’s eyes lidded, the tension slowly seeping out of his frame.

“I’m so glad…” Yuuya whispers.

Sawatari’s lips tweak just slightly in a small smile that speaks ounces more about his relief and contentment than any of his grins ever could.

“Yeah.”

Yuuya thinks he should crane up on his tiptoes, but Sawatari dips his head to meet him, so Yuuya doesn’t need to move at all.

…

The matches that follow are decidedly one-sided. Yuzu is alive and well, here in Snychro City, and Yuuya is immensely relieved — though slightly guilty that Choujiro was the one that was sent underground.

“That loudmouthed enjoy duellist knows how to run a crowd!” Sawatari says around a mouthful of pie as they eat at his ward. “He’ll be fine! And anyway your Yuzu made it, didn’t she? Weren’t you concerned for her all this while?”

“Yeah…” Yuuya pushes the pie around on his plate. “But Choujiro…”

“He’ll be _fine_. Not all the Lancers can win anyway. That would be _unrealistic_.” Sawatari holds up his fork. “Still, I expected nothing less from our Yuzu!”

…

Yuzu’s friend Yuugo is next up on the chopping block, along with… Sawatari Shingo. Yuuya watches the match unfold anxiously from his room, watching gleaming dragon clash against mysterious puppets, and breaks into the widest smile when Sawatari’s Rookie sends a blast of dark energy and shatters Yuugo’s dragons to nothing but glowing fragments.

One of the bellboys opens the door for him and escorts him carefully to Sawatari’s ward. It’s Akaba Reiji’s meddling once again, he’s sure, because he wouldn’t have been allowed out his room otherwise. Sawatari crashlands into the ward moments later, victory gleaming bright in his eyes and a mighty spring in his step.

“Did you see that, Yuuya? Ooh, the crowd _loved_ me!” Sawatari pumps a fist in the air. “I have really really really missed that! It felt _so_ good to crush him! Take that! The power of my Abyss Actors deck!”

“You were great!” Yuuya opens his arms and Sawatari fits himself into the space there, beaming proudly all the while.

“I was, wasn’t I? It took so many tries but _Bang!_ ” Sawatari flicks his fringe and blows imaginary smoke off the tip of his finger. “I got your heart.”

And incorrigible, unbelievable Sawatari is spouting nonsense with the most earnest of faces, while he heats up from the inside. Yuuya can feel the heat under the skin of his arms. So Sawatari does blush from his head to his toes.

“Sawatari, you really…” Yuuya pinches his arm lightly. “How are you feeling now?”

“Me? Now? I could go again!” Sawatari exclaims, but even the blinding grin that Sawatari gives him can’t shake away the heaviness under his eyes. “I’m just… Well, you really do know best, huh, Yuuya?... I’m just tired. Just a little bit.” Sawatari tugs Yuuya down to sit on the bed, an arm circling around Yuuya’s waist. “You know, blood loss and all… Even the amazing Sawatari Shingo needs an off day.”

“Yeah.” Yuuya makes a small noise as Sawatari presses against his neck. To think this boy revels in physical contact… he should’ve guessed it, really. “Well, you earned it today.”

Sawatari grins and doesn’t protest when Yuuya hoists his legs up onto the bed and curls into the warmth at his side.

…

The next time Yuuya thinks about Sawatari’s time travelling is when Dennis flips his hand and _Polymerisation_ is nestled amongst his cards, and for the first time Yuuya sees what it’s like for a dimension to be mauled under the heavy paws of a mechanical hound. He sees Shun fighting within an inch of his life, for a dimension he isn’t even a part of, and thinks about how Sawatari could’ve helped to control the dimension of _time_.

No. Sawatari is no weapon.

He pounds on the door shouting for Sawatari until he is let out. Sawatari is surprised to see him, but doesn’t tease him for climbing up on the bed with him, and they watch in silence as smoke wafts up into the sky while the crowd of Synchro City cheers on.

…

Yuzu wins the next battle, and Yuuya bursts into Sawatari’s ward to see him staring blankly at the television screen, watching replays of Sergey’s life points trickling down to zero over and over.

“S… Sawatari?”

“Oh, Yuuya!” The moment’s gone, and Sawatari jumps to his feet, eyes bright.

“That look doesn’t suit you, you know.” Yuuya sidesteps Sawatari’s hug and reaches up to pinch his cheek, twisting it upwards. “Smile!”

“Ow ow ow it hurts! Yuuya, what the hell are you doing!” Sawatari rubs at his cheek sourly. “I look handsome as is!”

Yuuya snickers and pats Sawatari’s cheek twice more just for emphasis. “You do. I’m glad Yuzu won this time, too…”

“Yeah. It took some tough battling, didn’t it. I can’t believe she pulled through!” Sawatari scratches absentmindedly at the scar on his neck, a habit that arises whenever he talks about duelling.

Yuuya flops on Sawatari’s bed. Beside him the mattress shifts under Sawatari’s weight. “Neither can I. Her opponent was really unnerving…”

“Tell me about it. He has the worst cards.”

They talk about everything and nothing at all, and Sawatari shares his pie with Yuuya (blueberry and cheesecake filling this time, it’s too sweet for Yuuya’s liking but Sawatari insists that it’s good calibre) and they are back home again, with dinner waiting at home for Yuuya and no war looming on the horizon for either of them. Yuuya asks about the scar, and Sawatari lets him touch it, though Yuuya can feel the slight tremble of skin beneath his fingertips, the muted pain of an old wound.

Sawatari shoots him a sidelong glance and a smirk. _I’m recovering, aren’t I?_

That is all the reassurance Yuuya needs, and he lowers his hand to brush across the back of Sawatari’s hand instead. When the bellboy comes to collect Yuuya, the light has already fallen, and as he leaves Yuuya isn’t sure what to make of the expression on Sawatari’s face — whether it is regret, or pain, or embarrassment, or something else lurking in the background.

…

He wins against Shinji and he is proud. He knew it would pay off, believing in Tuner Magician even though it seemed like a bad draw. Who would willingly cut life points if they could? Only the mad and deranged, like Sergey and Akaba Reiji.

But here he was, parading his win on a sliver of 100 LP, and he thinks it’s really one of the best entertainment duels he’s given in a while.

He’s about to pull the door to Sawatari’s ward open when, through the crack in the door, he makes out Sawatari doubled over with head craned to the television, breathing hard.

Worried, Yuuya quickly opens the door and steps in. He’s about to ask if Sawatari’s alright, when Sawatari strides over purposefully, puts a firm hand on Yuuya’s shoulder, and says, “What the hell, Yuuya?”

“H… huh?”

“That card! That magician with zero attack! You took a card from Jack and you never told me about it?” Sawatari huffs. “As your expert card shuffler —”

“You’re not it any more though,” Yuuya chuckles sheepishly. “And I didn’t take it—”

“— I demand to know!” Sawatari waves a hand. “Technicalities don’t matter! The point is that now I have to hear about it! You have a duty to me, Sakaki Yuuya! Don’t try to worm your way out of this one!”

“I’m not. I just didn’t want to worry you,” Yuuya protests. Whatever future protest visibly shrivels on Sawatari’s lips, and he’s shading that endearing hue of crimson that makes him look so much smaller than he actually is.

“Well you did! I almost thought you’d lose! Don’t play with my feelings like that, Yuuya!”

It’s all he can to do stop himself laughing at Sawatari’s affronted expression. Maybe nothing’s wrong at all, and Yuuya’s over-imagining things again. He wants to believe it so badly. He thinks he can, though; everything is going well — all save one of the Lancers have been winning so far, Yuzu is safe, and Sawatari… Sawatari is back to his usual self.

“I’m sorry.”

Sawatari sits heavily on his bed. “Haah? What for? I’m just glad you finally won in the end.”

“For making you worry anyway.” Yuuya sits beside him and leans into his shoulder. “I keep saying _sorry_. But you know I mean it, right?”

Sawtari gives him a curious look, like he’s speaking some language other than English. “Yeah,” he says dumbly after a second. “But if you’re sorry, then I’m sorry too.”

“For what!”

“Same reason you keep telling me,” Sawatari quips, and makes a good show out of doubling over and yelling in pain when Yuuya elbows him in the gut.

…

Shun wins the match against Crow. The Lancers of Standard are no match for Synchro, and the trend is becoming increasingly clear that the Friendship Cup is becoming just one where the Lancers clamour for the top spot to fight against Jack Atlas.

Yuuya’s cradling a plate with some pie. Lemon, though it’s not too tart, hopefully even for Sawatari. A blob of vanilla ice cream is rapidly melting on the side. Yuuya hasn’t missed the way Sawatari has been looking more tired these days, even though he still tends to raise his voice and is as petulant as he always has been. It’s easy to miss the telltale signs of physical exhaustion, especially for someone whose personality is like the sun compressed into one person.

He has one hand on the door when Sawatari shouts,

“Shun already won! What more do you want?”

and he sounds tired, worn, pressed into a corner—

Yuuya shoves the door open. “Sawatari? Sawatari, what’s wrong?”

The boy’s standing with his back to the door, fists clenched by his sides. At Yuuya’s voice he turns, and the snarl on his lips melts away to a relieved smile, so relieved but it makes a strange, out of place part of Yuuya hurt. Yuuya holds his plate out and Sawatari licks his lips.

“You’re not getting this until you tell me what’s going on.” A deft yank has the plate out of Sawatari’s grip again, and the boy lets out a frustrated groan.

“You would taunt me with pie?! That’s so harsh!”

“This isn’t like you, Sawatari!”

Sawatari sits on the bed and gives Yuuya one of those scowls that tells him too much about how nonplussed he feels. It’s the kind of expression Sawatari reserves for when he’s being reprimanded for things he didn’t do, or for duels he knows he can win but ends up losing.

“Well you’re not being very _Yuuya_ either! What is it, barging in here and demanding for answers that don’t make sense!” Sawatari’s scowl deepens. “Now give me the pie.”

“No.”

“Why not!”

“You were shouting earlier.” Yuuya picks up the dessert fork and carefully cuts off a little wedge, not missing the way Sawatari’s eyes light. “But well, I guess I’ll just eat this pie if you don’t tell m—”

Sawatari jumps off the bed and flings an arm out. “There’s nothing to tell! I—” He’s about to say something more, but the words are twisted into a strained choke of pain as he claps a hand over the wound in his neck.

Yuuya’s eyes widen. “It’s about your time travelling, isn’t it! You meddled in the duels. In Shun’s duel. In my duel! You’re the reason why I’ve been winning!”

The words hit Sawatari harder than Yuuya thinks they would’ve. There’s a brief silence settling between them, and then Sawatari lets out a quiet, weak sigh, biting back the pain.

“Sakaki…” he fumbles for the right words to say, dramatically turning towards the window where the endless sprawl of Synchro waits for them beyond. “I wish I could tell you that was true. The great Sawatari Shingo, meddling in everyone’s timelines and duels? That would be a great story to tell.”

Yuuya doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

“But… You’re tired all the time, and you’re in pain, and—”

“It’s the medication. Synchro’s doctors are crazy!” Sawatari gestures airily at several imposing bottles and bags of IV drips spilling over the countertop at the far end of the room. “And the doctors say high levels of stress trigger the pain, so… that’s all there is to it, really.”

Yuuya lowers the plate stiffly. “And… you’re… normal, now?”

Sawatari grimaces, and Yuuya can’t tell if it’s because of his words, or because of another spike of pain on his neck.

“… The Neo New Nouveau Sawatari is _anything but_ normal! Get that into your head, Sakaki Yuuya!”

There’s really nothing left to do… abruptly, an errant thought flickers at the front of his mind. _If you don’t have faith in the people who are there for you, then there’s no point having faith at all._

Yuuya sighs and hands Sawatari the plate, and doesn’t ask about the rings under his eyes.

…

The friendship cup passes in a blur, and Yuuya feels guilty when he beats Shun, and then beats Yuzu. _Of course he will_ , a part of him thinks, but even despite the close shaves, he knows, deep down, that he is not fated to lose. Jack Atlas waits for him at the top of those stairs, and he intends to get there.

On one of the nights when he’s nestled in Sawatari’s side with the tinny voice of Mellisa Claire droning on in the background, Sawatari nudges his shoulder and asks, “Hey. If let’s say, the two of us were to fight, you’d want to win, right?”

A quick glance confirms that Sawatari is being completely and utterly serious. Yuuya lowers his eyes. That’s right… so far Sawatari has been winning too, and at the rate they’re going, there’s a very real chance that they’d end up facing each other on the battlefield.

“You want to fight Jack Atlas, right?” Sawatari asks instead, when Yuuya can’t think of a good reply.

“Yeah,” he says, apologetic, “I do.”

“Good!” Sawatari replies brightly. “So do I. Let’s give the audience a good show!”

Yuuya blinks, surprised. This kind of enthusiasm about duelling has been painfully absent, now that it’s back, and Yuuya can’t stop the tide of relief from rising. “Sawatari…”

“Just because I was helping you last time doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you, you know!” Sawatari tuts and rubs his hands. “Just wait until you see the new tricks I’ve come up with—”

“Ah!” At Yuuya’s exclamation, Sawatari startles so hard he nearly topples off the bed. “But you know all my cards! This isn’t fair! You know my possible strategies!”

“That makes it all the more fun, doesn’t it. Heh heh.” Sawatari rubs a finger under his chin, his open plotting so comical that Yuuya snickers.

A spark flashes in Sawatari’s eyes, and it ignites something Yuuya thought he has left behind long ago, before the clash and collapse of dimensions began.

“You bet.”

…

Yuuya is losing, and Sawatari is winning. They're on a stage this time, because the speed is exhilarating but it's always more fun to see two top dogs duking it out on a grand arena for all the world to see. Yuuya’s field is empty, and Sawatari has four monsters with boosted attack on his field, with a couple of face down cards. He only has a hundred LP to spare, and it will take nothing short of a miracle to successfully summon something that can knock Sawatari’s LP to zero from its current 2300.

“Well? Didn’t you say you’d beat me?” Sawatari taunts from the mast of his pirate ship.

Yuuya grins up at him, drunk on the adrenaline and the thrill of the crowd going wild from an entire world away.

“Draw, Sakaki Yuuya!”

He does.

And the breath freezes in his throat.

It’s _Performance Turn_ , letting him change the battle position of a single monster before his turn ends.

Sakaki Yuuya’s hand is full of magic cards, and since Sawatari managed to undo his pendulum gate in the previous turn, there is absolutely nothing for him to summon, not even as a feeble wall.

The dismay of it surely shows on his face, because Sawatari has burst out laughing. “Ah? What’s this, Yuuya? Weren’t you all hyped on beating me earlier? What’s stopping you now?”

Yuuya’s mind races. If there’s a chance he can negate battle damage next turn, he’ll be able to stand a fighting chance. His only hope is the action cards scattered across the field.

“The fun will have to wait,” Yuuya calls over his shoulder, as he turns to run. “For now…”

His footsteps slow when he sees Sawatari’s grin crumple in on itself. His heart lurches as Sawatari brings his free hand to his chin, brow furrowing in deep thought. Yuuya makes out the words, _Something is wrong_ , and this time he is convinced that it is true.

“Sawatari?”

“I must’ve made a mistake. Again? Twice in one match, that’s new,” mutters Sawatari, running fingers through his hair. He raises his voice to address Yuuya, “Hoi, you were supposed to draw _Entermate Fliptoad_ this turn. Did you draw _Illusion Balloons_ then? Or was it _Performapal Recasting_?”

Yuuya looks down at his the cards in his hand. _Performapal Recasting_.

“Sawatari, what’s happening?” He asks as if he has no idea what’s happening, but truth is, he’s just too afraid to believe that it’s unfolding before him right now.

“What did you draw?” Sawatari asks harshly, stepping closer to the edge of the mast. “Just tell me what you drew.”

Yuuya grips his cards in his palm, almost bending them out of shape. “You… you lied to me? You’re still time travelling.”

“You can make this a lot easier for me _and_ for the Yuuya that wins the Friendship Cup by telling me what you drew. It’s tiring, you know? Having to guess the cards you draw?” He tuts. “We fight like this every time.”

“But… but I thought—”

“If you’re not going to tell me, I should be going. There’s no point in my being here.” Yuuya can hear the frustration and _pain_ in Sawatari’s voice, the kind of impatience that comes with being pushed to the edge of one’s wits and then a little further than that.

“Sawatari! Wait!”

“Sorry, Yuuya. I really do want the best for you, you know?” the boy takes a flourishing bow to the cries of outrage that have erupted from the grandstands, a little resigned smile playing about his lips. He carefully fits the cards in his hand back into his deck, and raises his arm to his neck, where the scar is.

“This isn’t fair!” Yuuya shouts, his cards creasing in his shaking grip. “Why can’t you win?”

“Because you have the miracle draw, Yuuya.” Sawatari’s smile grows just a little more, and as the action field begins to disintegrate before his eyes, Yuuya makes out a fierce tremor that wrecks Sawatari’s body from head to toe.

The device is still in there, somewhere. Sawatari staggers to maintain his balance, to maintain his composure, but his smile is cracking at the edges and he is no longer a world class entertainer, just a fraud who cheats on the draw.

Sawatari cries out, fingers contorting. “Damn this, Akaba Reiji!” Yuuya follows his eyes to the VIP box at the top of the grandstand, and makes out Reiji’s form appearing to stare over the parapet. “You said you repaired it!”

Yuuya finally forces his legs into motion, one step at a time, breaking into a full run as Sawatari tries to focus again, but is thwarted by an even fiercer crackle and hum of static that shorts the lights and screens across the stadium.

Akaba’s voice rings fiercely.“Sawatari Shingo! Stop what you’re doing!”

Sawatari snickers and makes a rude gesture behind him. “To hell with you! I’m doing this for Yuuya, not for you! Not for anyone else! I’m sick and tired of this! Try sending your lackeys if you’re so mad! I know they won’t get here in time!”

Yuuya comes to a staggering halt and grips Sawatari’s shoulders tight, seeing an ominous patch of red start growing on the side of Sawatari’s neck. It’s not fixed at all, and Yuuya tries to reach out to it, but Sawatari slaps his hand away.

“It hurts… it hurts _so bad_ even I of all people can’t bear with it,” gasps Sawatari with a pained grin, and Yuuya knows that if he were to touch the skin, it’d come away hot and blistering on his fingertip.

_No. Not this again._

Arms are pulling him close, and he hears his frantic breaths between the steady thumps of Shingo’s heartbeat.

“Yuuya,” he whispers, softly so only he can hear, “I want to see how you’ll smile when you finally win. I’ll... “

“Don’t… you’ll get hurt. Just—”

Shingo’s arms tighten around him.

“I’ll see you in the timeline where you win, okay, Yuuya?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Sakaki Yuuya!”

The voice is familiar, and sounds a lot nearer and a lot brighter than he’s used to. Yuuya jolts upright and crashes into Sawatari’s head, and they both collapse in a groaning tumble on the ground.

“What…” Sawatari rubs his head, exasperated. “I was just trying to catch some beauty sleep, which is damn near impossible if you keep shouting like that!”

“Eh? Sawatari…” It comes back to him in a rush and he quickly reaches over, tugs on the back of Sawatari’s jacket collar to pull him closer and put fingers on his neck.

Sawtari is reduced to a spluttering, indignant mess, but there is no scar, no stray hard edges.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

“What the hell are you doing? People would pay money to put their hands on me, you know?! How are you going to compensate me—”

“Sawatari. Where’s my deck?”

“Are you accusing me of stealing?” If Sawatari was exasperated earlier, now he’s absolutely livid. Absently, Yuuya worries that he’ll burst a nerve somewhere.

“You don’t know? Or are you lying to me? You’re a time traveller, aren’t you? You’re the one botching my deck so I get the miracle draws I’ve been getting?”

For once, Sawatari is utterly and completely speechless.

There is pure, _real_ confusion in Sawatari’s eyes, one that he doens’t remember seeing for a long time.

Sawatari snaps fingers in front of his face and says, very calmly and understandingly, “Earth to Yuuya. You’re awake now, you know? This isn’t a dream any more. You’re here, I’m here, and—” the boy takes a deep breath and bellows —“There are _no such thing as time travellers!_ What do you take me for? An idiot? Have you been thinking about Timegazer Magician too much? Haah? What is this! This is no way to treat me! Especially after you just crashed into my—”

A guard slams his baton into the iron grills of the prison cell they’re in, and Sawatari quails with furious nods.

Yuuya struggles to understand the strange, out of place memories that keep resurfacing.

 _Sawatari, flipping through cards. Sawatari, with red lines drawn across his skin and uniform. Sawatari, with that_ smile _as he fits himself against Yuuya’s arms—_

“Ah, it must’ve been just a dream…” Yuuya lowers his head, feeling very small and very vulnerable.

Sawatari decides he wants nothing more to do with this, and mutters something about impoliteness and manners before flopping into his own bed.

He still can’t shake off the feeling, though… he reaches under his pillow for his deck (Sawatari gives him the dirtiest look he has ever received in his life) and, out of curiosity, opens the first card.

_Odd Eyes._

“You must’ve felt my conflict, huh, Odd Eyes?” Yuuya mutters faintly, running his hand down the red dragon’s ridged back. “Guess miracle draws really do happen after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just for extra clarity: Shingo ruined himself in all the possible timelines that he was a time traveller, so the universe of ARC V (the one we're watching now) is the one where Shingo is still alive: the one and only timeline where Shingo isn't a time traveller.


End file.
